28Warning: This blog may be triggering. i have to choose recovery every single day for the rest of my life and sometimes it’s a tough decision to make and it is okay to struggle.
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Every ‘I'm fine’ is a lifeline I throw out to keep others from drowning in me
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unfortunately i remember everything and it will sit in my chest forever.
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I just wanna rot away and dissolve into nothing.
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im only a survivor because im physically here, i was killed in every other way. im afraid i’ve always been dead and that i always will be.
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Why do I carry all that violence in my heart?
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Some things break you so fucking bad that you spend the rest of your life wishing you hadn’t survived it. Because death would be better than the pain you have to live with everyday
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me, while being abused: it’s okay, I’m used to this already, and I’m tough, I can take it.
me, years later when the trauma symptoms hit: I WAS SO WRONG
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some memories never leave your bones. like salt in the sea, they become part of you. and you carry them.
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i think the western world has made us so caught up on having a purpose and finding it for our whole entire lives. some indigenous cultures believe we’re alive and here just as trees and animals are: to be here and to beautiful and strange, to simply just be. we don’t need to achieve anything to be valid in our humanness.
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